


The Delicate Fabrics of Time

by silver_devastation



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_devastation/pseuds/silver_devastation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor wasn’t quite sure how in all of space and time Captain Jack Harkness had managed to turn up here, now, without ripping a considerable hole into every single delicate fabric of this universe. Then again, Jack never <i>had</i> been known for being subtle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Some Things

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by (but independent from) justanotherghostwriter’s amazing [“The Many Names of Rose Tyler”](http://justanotherghostwriter.tumblr.com/post/44282376057/quick-reminder-that-i-take-prompts-title-the), which made me want to figure out what Jack Harkness would be like in Pete’s World. Since most character arcs have a slight (or, sometimes, major) twist in this particular AU, I’ve decided that in Pete’s World, Jack never let go of his brother’s hand. This is what happens.
> 
>  **Beta read** by [justanotherghostwriter](http://justanotherghostwriter.tumblr.com/), who is amazing.

Some things were difficult. 

Staying in one place when your whole body was aching for movement. Growing a TARDIS on a planet that only had one stupid sun. Working long days at Torchwood when your husband was going through one of his phases of restlessness and desperation. 

Nevertheless, when the shrill sound of her earpod’s emergency alarm ripped her from sleep, Rose Tyler was wide awake in an instant. After all those years of working for Torchwood her instincts were as sharp as could be, and she’d already pressed the button to take the call when she was still trying to disentangle her limbs from a grumbling half-Time Lord.

“Yeah?”

“Ma’am. Really sorry to wake you at this godforsaken hour.” 

She looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was a quarter to four. 

The voice continued, and Rose realized it must be Roger Samson, head of security. “There’s been a breach at one of the underground laboratories. The intruder—human, it seems—has been taken, but we need your special expertise to determine whether he’s a threat.” 

“My… expertise?” Rose had learned a lot of things in the past few years, quantum physics and the handling of massive firearms not being the least of which, but she was sure there were quite a few people more qualified than her when it came to interrogating late-night intruders. Some might even already be at the base. There was a mumbled discussion at the other end of the line.

She looked at the Doctor who had curled around her part of the covers and was breathing softly once more. Then Roger spoke again.

“The intruder claims to be temporally displaced.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Of course they would ring her. After her work on the Dimension Cannon and the first few experiments, Sarah Harrison, lead researcher on cross-dimensional transit, had taken her aside.

“You know, most people here think you’re far too familiar with this stuff. I know they say you’re Pete Tyler’s long-lost daughter, but…” She’d trailed off.

Rose had looked a bit taken aback, and Sarah had added: “Don’t worry. Let them talk. I’m not trying to pry, really, though if you do want to talk about it… it’s not every day you get to talk to someone from a different world.” Sarah had smiled. “Just wanted to let you know what’s going on round here. And that I’ll have your back, ‘cause you do some really good work.”

They’d become close friends after that, even if Rose kept mum about her travels. It was not something she wanted to go into, for her own sanity’s sake—her life was here now, after all, in one specific time and place, and there was nothing she could do about that—and to protect the Doctors, both Time Lord and not. 

A few weeks later, though, all of the heads of departments had been briefed regarding Rose’s off-world status and her experience with time travel. Not that everyone had believed that last bit of information, of course, but it had made things a little easier, especially when they arrived with another off-worlder three years ago. One that, this time, they couldn’t possibly claim was related. 

Rose looked at the Doctor as she got up and dressed. He sighed in his sleep and she pressed a kiss on his temple and left him a note on her pillow in case he woke up while she was gone.

 

_Am at work, there’s been an emergency._  
 _Love you always._  
 _xxx_

 

On her way to the Torchwood Towers, she went over what little information they had given her. 

It definitely seemed odd. 

 

* * * 

 

“Jack!” 

It came out completely involuntarily and earned her confused looks not only from the armed guards standing at his side, but also from Jack himself. Jack was seated on the chair behind the table, his hands and feet cuffed. They were holding him in the specially sealed interrogation room: behind the partition were two more guards and Roger Samson stayed close behind her, just in case. 

Jack’s uncomprehending look made Rose’s smile falter. 

“Jack?” She sat down on the chair opposite him. Blue dress shirt, red braces—he looked much like the last time she’d seen him, although he seemed a bit out of it. God, how she’d missed him sometimes, his fantastic stories and the way he could make her laugh. She’d never thought she’d see him again.

“We’ve given him something to calm him down. He was upset and seemed a bit, umm, inebriated.” Roger looked at her closely. “Do you know him?”

“Jack?” she ventured again, and this time he smiled in an eerily familiar way.

“It’s not Jack,” he said. “It’s Zack. Zachary MacGrath of the Boeshane Peninsula. And who are _you_?” he added with a grin that she knew all too well, even though whatever they had given him made it turn out rather lopsided. 

“It’s me, Rose. Don’t you remember? Jack, how did you end up here?” 

“Zack,” he repeated. “Although, lovely woman like you… You could call me anything you like.” He winked.

Rose just stared at him, and suddenly she felt like she was back in a different time and place, all those years ago, on the back of a Chula warship that could turn invisible at the press of a button, and it was tethered to Big Ben and there was champagne — 

She felt dizzy.

“He tried flirting with me, too.” Roger sighed. “Ms Tyler, what’s going on? Do you know this man?”

Then it clicked. This was Jack and then again, it wasn’t. This was the Jack from this universe. 

Apparently, his name was Zack. And he was meeting her for the first time.

 

* * * 

 

“Alright, Zack, let’s start from the beginning.” 

Zack. It would take some time to get used to this.

Rose had asked the guards to uncuff him, which had made him pout with mock disappointment: “Awww, I kind of liked the handcuffs.” She was sure she could see him exchange a meaningful glance with one of the guards, too, who blushed and quickly turned away.

Rose had insisted they leave her alone with him and while the guards were happy to oblige, Roger Samson had wanted to stay with her. Rose understood that he had a hard time accepting her easy familiarity with the stranger, especially keeping in mind that she didn’t even seem to know his proper name. But this was important to her. She knew how to handle this. She knew Jack, after all.

“No, Roger, listen. I can vouch for him. And I wanna talk to him in a normal way, not like he’s a criminal.”

Finally, Roger had given in. 

Now here she was, and there was this bloke who looked just like Jack, and she wanted to know what was going on. Thankfully, he seemed happy about her intervention and was eager to talk.

“Alright. I’ve told them all this, but here we go. Last night was my birthday,” he said. “My brother Gray, he’s a Time Agent. Goes by a different name of course. He wanted to take me to this, uh, club in London in the 31st century to celebrate. 31st birthday, 31st century, you know.” 

Rose nodded as she remembered her universe’s Jack’s involvement with the Time Agency as well. And she had an idea just what sort of club he was talking about. Not that she needed any more details. 

Zack continued. “You’re not supposed to do these things, I guess, but Gray borrowed his partner’s travel device to take me along. We wanted to go directly to the club to avoid messing with the timestream as much as possible. Just some anonymous patrons. I have no idea how I ended up here.” He shrugged. 

“What happened to your device?” 

“I don’t know. I have no idea how that thing even works. The guys over there confiscated it.” Zack made a vague gesture towards the partition. “We just wanted to go to London.”

“Well, you managed to get to London alright.” Rose grinned. “This is the 21st century, though, so you’re a few years early. And you’ve stumbled into some very high-security labs… which apparently get turned into a club at some point.” 

“Not just any old club —“ Zack started to explain with an enthusiam Rose knew all too well. She waved him off. 

“But you’re not a Time Agent, then? Your brother is?” 

Zack nodded. 

“Who are you, then? What do you do for a living?”

“Me?” He flashed her a winning smile. “I’m an insurance salesman. Feeling a threat of alien attack? I’m your man.”

 

* * * 

 

In the end Rose had managed to convince Roger Samson that despite Zack’s sudden appearance in Torchwood’s underground labs, he did not pose any immediate threat to the institute’s security. She’d also gotten hold of the vortex manipulator, safely sealed away in a see-through plastic bag, on the grounds that all of Zack’s possessions needed to be returned to him. Best not to have Torchwood’s scientists tinker with it just yet. She would take it home and get the Doctor to look at it. And she would take Zack with her as well, now that he’d gotten the green light from the institute’s medical officers. They had a guest room and he needed somewhere to stay, if only until this whole mix-up was sorted out. It would also be good to keep him under observation, just in case.

“Five hours in the 21st century and I already have a beautiful woman taking me home.” Zack smiled. “After all I’ve heard, I thought you guys were a lot more conservative than that.” 

Rose looked at him, and all she could do was shake her head and laugh.

Some things never changed.


	2. Delicate Fabrics

As it turned out, they’d left the Torchwood building just in time to get stuck in the morning traffic. Rose smacked the steering wheel of her small blue Fiesta in frustration as yet another driver cut her off. This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined spending the morning, especially not after barely scraping four hours of sleep. The only thing that kept her from breaking into a string of really colourful swear words was Zack’s presence next to her and his excited fascination with 21st century London as they ever so slowly wound their way through the city. His sedative had worn off and he seemed to have skipped forward straight into the hyperactive part of sleep deprivation.

“Huh, newspapers made out of actual paper. You still have those? I thought they’d be long gone by now. Or was that the 23rd century? Global action against deforestation and the introduction of synthetic paper? I never could keep my ancient earth history straight. Not that I’m calling you ancient, mind you.” Rose could feel Zack’s smile on her. “But I failed both my exams in AEH in my last year at Middle Boe Modern. Was more interested in the history of the star colonies to be honest. And in my classmates. But then they shut down the school when –– oooh, look at that _suit_. That is one fine suit. I’d call that retro if I didn’t know it was way ahead of its time.” 

Zack craned his neck to look at a rather dashing young fellow on his way to work. Rose watched him from the side and smiled to herself. For the first time she had a feeling she understood what the Doctor might have felt — all those years ago when he’d still had blue eyes and a leather jacket and took her to see the end of the world.

“Is this your first time, then?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“Travelling through time.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so. First time and it already went horribly wrong.” Zack laughed. “Let’s hope I don’t end up accidentally killing my own ancestors. Or… doing other unfortunate things with them.” 

“Yeah. Let’s hope not.” Rose had a dreadful sense of foreboding.

“Thanks, by the way.” Zack’s attention was completely focused on her now.

“For what?” 

“Getting me out of the mess earlier. I’d have hated to spend my time in the 21st century in a small holding cell with handcuffs and bread and water and a bunch of people who seemed very eager to experiment on anything they thought was alien.” 

“Oh, that. No problem. My colleagues can be a bit intense. And I had a feelin’ I knew ya from somewhere...” Rose became thoughtful. Was this how it went, then? Would it be this way in all possible universes? Jack got into trouble travelling back in time and she and the Doctor had to bail him out? Good thing he wasn’t trying to sell them anything, this time around. Although he was an insurance salesman after all…

“Do you think I’ll be able to get back?” Zack’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Considering I don’t even know how to use this vortex thing and it backfired terribly the one time I did try to travel with it.”

Rose felt her heart sink. She knew this wasn’t really her Jack, although he looked like him and talked like him and just generally seemed identical to him in every important way. This wasn’t him. She had to tell herself that. Still, when she was around him, she felt like it was her Jack — their Jack — and some of her best memories of travelling with him and the Doctor came back alive. Jack and her, sitting in the doorway of the TARDIS, legs swinging into empty space and the Doctor behind them, his hands on their shoulders, while all of them looked down on Woman Wept, a planet named after its main landmass: a huge continent, all curved round, which looked just like a woman lamenting. Or the time the Doctor had taken them to this beach, a thousand miles across, and the sea had just frozen in the middle of a storm, all the way out to the horizon. And how Jack and the Doctor had taken her hands, one on each side, and the three of them had stood there speechless, trying to take it all in. So long ago. So much had happened since. 

They didn’t have enough time together. They never did, back then. 

Really, though, this Jack had his own life which had nothing to do with her. And she had to make sure he could get back to it. 

“I dunno,” she answered as brightly as she could, “but I hope so. The Doctor should be able to fix it.” They were almost home now. 

“The Doctor?”

“My husband.” She still smiled when she used that term, even though they had been married for almost two years now.

“Your husband? Oh, right. Outdated institutionalized form of monogamy only available to people of opposite sex?” 

“D’you mind! I get what you’re saying but it’s not outdated to _me_.” 

“Sorry,” Zack grinned. “Anyway, how would your husband be able to fix it? You guys don’t have the technology for these kinds of things for at least another millennium.”

Rose pulled into the driveway of the house she shared with the Doctor.

“Lucky for you, my husband is a genius.” 

 

* * *

 

This was the part that Rose had been looking forward to ever since she’d decided that Zack would come with her. She opened the door to the Doctor’s work space with gusto, and they both stepped in. 

The Doctor stood hunched over his workbench, his back to them and sonic screwdriver in hand, and his voice sounded unmistakably irritated: “Rose Tyler, I told you if I’m in the middle of an experiment and you just come bursting in, I ––” 

“We have guests,” Rose announced cheerfully, ignoring his foul mood. 

It was only then that the Doctor turned around. 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“What?” 

Rose’s smile was brighter than half the suns he’d ever seen, but the Doctor wasn’t quite sure how in all of space and time Captain Jack Harkness had managed to turn up here, now, without ripping a considerable hole into every single delicate fabric of this universe. Then again, Jack never _had_ been known for being subtle. The Doctor rifled through his hair in apprehension of all the inevitable trouble they would be in. 

Zack just looked from one to the other in confusion.

“Doctor, welcome to my emergency at work. This is _Zack_ ,” Rose stressed his name carefully. “Zack, this is the Doctor.” 

The Doctor quickly caught himself and held out a hand. 

“I see. Zack, eh? Just ‘the Doctor’, please. How did you end up _here_?” The Doctor looked to Rose, his left eyebrow raised in another unspoken question. She answered before Zack could say anything: “Problem with a vortex manipulator. No Chula warships involved this time, though. At least I hope not.” 

“Chula warships?” Zack seemed baffled. “Where would I get a Chula warship from?”

The Doctor took a good look at Zack: Rose was right. This Jack didn’t feel wrong, didn’t feel like a fixed point in space and time at all, not like the last one he’d seen. He just sort of _fit_. He belonged here. Even if his appearance on their doorstep meant that he’d obviously gotten the wrong end of this universe’s chronology stick. And what had the universe done? Dropped him right here, of course. 

“Are you not with the Agency then, _Zack_?” If the Doctor smirked just a little and slightly over-enunciated his name, Zack didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh no, that’s my brother. He’s the one everyone is talking about, poster boy and everything. ‘The Face of Boe’, they call him. Wait, how do you know about the Agency?” 

The Doctor’s grin, then, could only be described as winning with a side of mad: 

“Oh, didn’t Rose tell you? I’m a genius.” 

 

* * * 

 

Zack felt his confusion mount like the tidal waves on the Storming Moon of Clom. First he ended up in this positively medieval century three thousand years ago, got detained and sedated and interrogated by unfriendly (albeit cute) security guards, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he then fell into the hands of these two people: Rose Tyler and the Doctor. ‘The Doctor’, what sort of name was that? They were complete strangers who spoke like lunatics and kept grinning at him in this strangely hopeful way and who seemed to know things about him that he’d never ever told them. He’d never seen them before in his life, he was sure of that, and how could he anyway? But at the same time, they seemed oddly familiar. Still, something was off about them, something he couldn’t quite grasp. 

He felt like he was always just on the brink of remembering something important. 

It never quite came. 

He paced around the room. Its wallpaper was a light green and patterned; there was a wooden wardrobe, some shelves with what looked like children’s books, a small desk and a chair. From the window he could see a small garden with a shed and a greenhouse. He turned back around. There was also a bed. Single. He should probably catch some sleep while he could, although he didn’t feel tired at all. 

He had talked to the Doctor about the vortex manipulator and when he’d shown it to him, the Doctor’s eyes had lit up like a complete Barillion Christmas market. The Doctor had babbled on about a bunch of things Zack didn’t understand, talking about genetic seals and advanced temporal flux and at least three different sonic screwdriver settings that he hadn’t yet programmed. 

“You have a sonic screwdriver?” Zack had said. “Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, oooh, this could be a little more sonic? Wait a minute. Sonic technology isn’t even _invented_ yet.” 

“What, you’ve never been bored? Never had a long night? Never had a lot of — oh,” the Doctor had caught himself mid-sentence. “Never mind.” Then he’d shushed Zack out of the room like he’d seen a ghost, saying he had work to do. After that, Rose had shown Zack around the house for a bit, explaining bits and pieces of 21st century life while they were both getting progressively sleepier. In the end, Rose had been the first to cave and so she’d led him to the guest room and excused herself to take a nap. His generous offer to keep her company while she napped had made her laugh but was ultimately rejected. 

It was only fair, he supposed. 21st century — they were probably still trying to get over some of the more persistent sexual hang-ups. Plus, women’s liberation had only happened, what, 50 years ago? 

Zack lay down on the bed tentatively and felt something rustle in his trousers’ pockets. Feeling for the source of the noise, he discovered a small piece of paper with a string of numbers on it and a name: Erin. One of the guards must have slipped it into his pockets at a security pat down. Or was it one of the medical officers? He smiled. 

The 21st century wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, all things considered. Now he just needed to find out who these two curious people were that he’d so unexpectedly ended up with. 

He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and before he knew it he was fast asleep.


End file.
